


Moving On

by BrokePerception



Category: Stepmom (1998)
Genre: Drama, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 15:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokePerception/pseuds/BrokePerception
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna deals with losing her mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving On

My eyes slid over the number of people around me, all clad in similar black attires. Some of them were crying. Most of them I had never even seen before. I never knew how many people Mom actually had known, or maybe just how many people had known Mom. Was there really a difference? My eyes were entirely dry. It didn't mean that I wasn't hurting inside, but it felt like something very powerful and odd had clenched around my insides and kept them together tightly. I had almost no air to breathe, it felt. I couldn't cry anymore. I had cried enough in the past couple of days after Mom's death.

I looked up as suddenly silence washed over us, indicating that the priest had quit talking. A soft, screeching sound could be heard, and it actually took me a while before realizing its source. Then I slowly saw Mom's coffin being lowered into the earth. Ben released a sob. Poor Ben had been in between Dad and Isabel until then, holding hands with each. Now, he had turned to Dad, sobbing in his long black coat, while both of his hands clung to the material. Ben was wearing the cape Mom had made for him last Christmas. I sighed. She hadn't lived long after.

My hands were clenched to fists in my pockets. I wanted to scream loud, but didn't think any sound would come if I opened my mouth. It was rather chilly, and I was glad I wore the long green scarf Mom had knitted for me years ago. It was bright green, and possibly the most colorful thing around the graveyard; it was a tie with Ben's cape.

Isabel was crying, too. Never would I have thought that I would see this. She and Mom hadn't really begun well, but with Mom's illness, they had gotten so much tighter in just the three months after Christmas. I sniffled, taking a very deep breath as the coffin sank deeper and deeper. I was scared, that from the moment I could no longer see it, it was really the end. I would only realize the meaning of that feeling later.

I vividly recalled the promise I had made to my Mom. I would carry her with me everywhere. I hated realizing the fact that she would never give me her advice again. She would never reply anymore, no matter how much I talked to her. Yet I would carry her with me when I graduated, got married and had babies. I would think about her at these moments and wish she had been there. And if not, Isabel and Dad would remind me of it.

Mom would never be forgotten as long as I lived; as long as little Ben lived.

I could hear the coffin touch the earth; the bottom of the pit. I walked forward, and took the lonely white rose from under my armpit, letting it drop onto the casket. I love you, Mom.


End file.
